


Til Death Do Us Part

by Kabella



Series: Endurance [16]
Category: Mötley Crüe, The Dirt (2019)
Genre: Forever, IT'S ME, It's Time, Loss, Love, M/M, Stubborn, Terrorcest - Freeform, getting old
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-21
Updated: 2020-05-21
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:35:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,030
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24296710
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kabella/pseuds/Kabella
Summary: Nikki has been looking for Tommy in all the wrong spots. Come on... you know your Tommy better than anyone. He's right there, holding his hand out for you
Relationships: Tommy Lee/Nikki Sixx
Series: Endurance [16]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1902748
Comments: 21
Kudos: 27





	Til Death Do Us Part

**Author's Note:**

> I'm nervous about posting this one. I hope I did the topic justice. It's meant to be a love story.
> 
> Going back to writing fluff for awhile now.

**Til Death Do Us Part**

_*Follow up to Driftaway and Loveshine_

Nikki lies in bed. His children are nearby. His eyes are closed, probably for the final time; his green eyes never to be looked upon again. Nikki is dying. No one would have ever bet that Nikki Sixx could make it to the ripe old age of 93. The rockstar outlived his other 3 bandmates. Who could have ever guessed that’s the way it would go? The one who was gunning to be the first to buy the farm. Today, will most likely be the day that Motley Crue will be silenced forever; it’s final remnant moving on. The band continuing on as a legend from here on out only in the form of recorded music, video, and printed word….nothing more to ever be added.

Vince departed just 2 short years ago. A sudden heart attack took him quickly. Nikki was devastated. Vince was his outlet. His segway to the past. The two old men, often talking about their wild days, laughing and sometimes crying. Two old buddies, friends ‘til the end.

Mick, that old curmudgeon, passed about nearly 5 years ago. Yet, oddly enough, despite his painful disease and frail frame, he surpassed Nikki in age. Who would have thought that? It had to be his spitfire that kept him going. Always snappy, always bitching, never tiring. Mick became wheelchair dependent about 2 years before his passing. Nikki would go over there, and the pair would still attempt to write music together, just because. Mick was a grumpy bastard, often criticizing Nikki’s missed chords. The bassist’s worn hands, not always able to hit it right. Mick would snap the guitar from him, his hands and fingers with plenty of fire left in them. Nikki misses him a great deal. A solid rock in his life. Someone he could bounce things off of; his mentor in some ways. He never knew Mick’s cause of death. Just gone. Of course, that’s the way the mystery man wanted to go.

The hardest one for Nikki was his Tommy. The first of all of them to go….. 

It’s been a long 8 years. 

8 years, since Nikki saw him and touched him. Tommy was diagnosed with stage 4 lung cancer. At 81 years old, Tommy refused treatment and accepted his fate. He always had that feeling that something like this would do him in. 

He kept up his lively act all the way til the end. Joking, laughing, mocking. That was Tommy. He did his best to keep a brave face on for Nikki. Inside, he was pretty terrified. Nikki knew that, but went along with Tommy’s way about it because he knew that’s the way the drummer wanted it. He didn’t want Nikki to be sad. Hell, he made it into his 80s. He thought that was a huge feat in itself. Something to celebrate. But in the quiet of the night, Nikki would pull his lover close to him in bed and shush him. This was the only time he let himself be vulnerable.

He did that every night until Tommy could no longer be in his own bed, hospice care entering the scene on a daily basis, helping to make the drummer as comfortable as they could in a rented hospital bed, which was placed in the guest room of the house. Nikki would make every attempt to stay with him during the night, holding his hand. Nikki’s younger daughter, temporarily living in the house to help out, would make every attempt to move her dad back to his own bed; insisting that sleeping bedside wasn’t ideal for the 85 year old man. Sometimes she’d win; sometimes he’d win.

The day Tommy passed, Nikki sat with him bedside, along with Tommy’s 2 sons. He held his love’s hand, and wept. Tommy had been mostly unresponsive for about a day, just an occasional squeeze from his hand. It was time. Nikki watched him take his last breath, then Tommy let go. 

“Dad’s gone,” one boy said to the other. Both breaking down, leaning on each other. Nikki sat silently, on the other side of the bed, holding on to his lover’s hand. Savoring those last few precious moments of contact. He kissed his hand, and laid it down on the drummer’s belly; holding on to it for a few more precious moments. Nikki then leaned in and left a soft kiss on his lips, one last time, stroking his face. He stood up, walked to the other side of the bed, leaving a kiss on the top of each boy’s head, then walked to the door. He turned back once, just before leaving the room to take Tommy in one last time. He couldn’t stay. He didn’t want to feel Tommy’s body grow cold. He knew hospice care would be coming in soon to take care of Tommy’s final business at home.

The 85 year old emerged from the guest room, into the living room. Upon seeing Nikki, Vince and Mick knew. They were there, as well. They said their goodbyes earlier; along with an array others; several people coming in and out over the last day. Nikki’s other children, Tommy’s grandchildren, and his one great-granddaughter. Nikki went over to his bandmates, and fell into their arms. The 3 men embracing one another and crying. Their band baby was gone. Tommy Lee was gone.

Nikki’s daughter stood back, and let the 3 be. She called hospice, as they were instructed to do when the time came. Within a half hour, they arrived. Nikki didn’t want to see any of this. Neither did Mick or Vince. They left, while Nikki retreated to his bedroom, gently clicking the door shut. He laid himself down on the bed, and shut his eyes, letting tears fall. Nikki’s daughter crept in to check on him.

“Dad?" she asks.

Nikki just sniffed his nose clear.

“How are you doing?” his grown daughter asks, with tears in her eyes.

“I’m OK,” he replies, not meaning it. The love of his life, now gone forever.

“I’m sorry. I’ll miss him too. I loved him.”  
  


Nikki takes hold of his daughter’s hand, and just continues to lie there softly sobbing, as she strokes her father’s gray hair. (He stopped dying it about 7 years ago.)

“Daddy? A few days ago Tommy asked me to give this to you,” she says, holding a letter in an open envelope. “He asked me to wait until this time to give it to you.”

“Put it on the window sill, please,” Nikki replied.

“OK. I’m here for you. I love you. I’m going to make some dinner. Try to keep you all nourished,” she says, referring to her dad, and Tommy’s sons. She pulls a light blanket up on her dad, and leaves quietly.

Nikki laid still, with his quiet cry, for about an hour, maybe even two. He laid there until he heard the shuffling and talking out in the other room quiet down. He didn’t want to see the hospice workers. He didn’t want to see the EMTs or officers. He wanted none of that tainting his memories. It’s quiet now. That means that Tommy is gone from the house. This thought stabs him hard. No matter who is here, this house will now always feel empty to him. 

He sits up, and stands to take a few steps to the chair near the window. He’s been sitting there as of late, staring out into the greenery on the other side of it. It’s a place of meditation, prayer, and reflection. A thinking spot. Today, the greenery is obscured by relentless raindrops. A rare rainy day in Los Angeles. Nikki takes notice of the raindrops rolling down the window, likening them to his tears, which have been rolling down his face. With a sigh, he picks up the envelope. He brings it to his nose, closing his eyes, then presses it against his heart. He’s not ready for this now. He needs some time to process everything. It’s going to be a long hard road.

\--------------------

Two weeks had passed since Tommy died. Nikki’s been up and around. His daughter, staying with him for an extended period, is here to make sure that he’s taken care of. At 85, Nikki is still pretty virile and able bodied. He’s capable of living alone, but at this time, probably not such a great idea. He could really use someone nearby to make sure that he stays the course. He’s been known to neglect his basic necessities when he gets in his own head about things or when he tries to tackle new ideas to keep himself busy.

“Morning, dad. What do you want for breakfast today?” his daughter asks, poking her head into Nikki’s bedroom. The one that he used to share with Tommy. The twosome came out, years ago at this point. Gay? Bi-Sexual? It didn’t really matter at that point; no other man or woman was going to be coming between them. It was somewhat of a difficult time, for them, and for some friends and family. 

Things just took time, but eventually it all normalized. All family came to terms. Some friends slipped away. Others carried on, as before. Most seemed to think that the Terror Twins were made for each other anyway. For many it wasn’t so much of the concept of Tommy and Nikki together as a couple; it was the juxtaposition of that against the scores and scores of women they both fucked, as well as their gorgeous ex-wives. A lot of people grieved that as a loss as to how they perceived the rock n’ rollers.

“Whatever you feel like making, honey. Thank you,” Nikki replies, redirecting his attention back to the letter in his shaky hands. It’s time, he thinks, to open it. He lifts the unsealed flap, and pulls out a very badly folded letter. Silly details, like folding on straight lines, were never Tommy’s thing. Nikki takes a moment to savor that paper in his hand; paper that was touched by Tommy’s own hands, not too long along. He brings it to his nose again, always hoping to catch a familiar scent. There’s nothing there. Tommy stopped smoking a few years ago.

Nikki takes a deep breath, and unfolds the paper.

_To Nikki, My Love,_

_You know that I’m not so good with words on paper. But, I’ll try my best here. I just want to let you know while I still can, how much I love you. You’ve been my shining light, my strength, my security, my life breath for over 60 years. That’s so fucked to even think. 60 plus fucking years. And there was once a time when we thought that we would even live through the first 5. But we did it, and we fucking did it together. You and our kids and our band, made life worth living, and gave me the type of life that one could only dream of. I have no regrets. I know that you’re going to be with me until the very end. It’s a little strange for me to write this now, but I assure you that I can say this with confidence…. that as I took my last breath, I was thinking about you. I don’t want you to be sad. But I know that you will be. Just know that I’m still with you. I will find anyway I can to let you know that I’m near. Look for me because I don’t ever want you to feel alone. And I’ll be with you right up until your day comes. I’ll be there to take your hand._

_I’ll love you always and forever, Tommy”_

_P.S. I’m giving this to your daughter to give to you after I pass._

_P.P.S. Fuck you, with love. One last potshot there._

Nikki rubs his hand over the words, his thumb over his own name “Nikki” written in Tommy’s own handwriting. Tommy’s rarely one for writing, only talking, and a lot of it. He didn’t even do birthday cards. He always just wants to run his mouth. It’s his way…. or, it _was_ his way. If Nikki passed first, Tommy would have had a mountain of letters and cards to hold on to and fawn over. Nikki has very few things like this from Tommy. This is one that will be precious to him, as he holds the letter to his heart, tears streaming down.

By the time Nikki’s daughter comes back in, Nikki has read the letter about 53 times. She sees it in his hand, and knows. “Come on, daddy. Let’s have breakfast together.”

\----------------------------

A few months have passed by. Even though Nikki gets around quite well, it was decided that it would be best if he moved in with his younger son, his son’s wife, and 2 nearly grown granddaughters. Nikki tries to not invade their space much, even though the family seems very happy to have him there. The wife proudly calls Nikki “dad”. Having lost her own father at a young age, she was more than happy to have this iconic man, father of her husband, be her adopted dad, not just merely a father-in-law. And the grandkids, well, they love him to pieces. They keep Nikki active and feeling young; always begging him to tell them stories from his past. Nikki’s son has asked him to keep it PG. Nikki never listened. All of his grandchildren have heard the most lurid of the stories; Tommy's grandchildren too.

Nikki is happy to be here. His family helps keep him distracted. One of his quests has been trying to figure out where Tommy is. Is he here? Was he not able to come by? Does he know he moved? Nikki believes with all of his heart that Tommy will hold to his word. Vince told him that rainbows have been where Skylar shows up.

“Really?” Nikki asks.

“Yeah man, it’s a thing with a lot of people. But for me, it’s always personal. I can’t tell you how many times I’m struggling, and out of nowhere a rainbow comes into view. Sometimes in the sky. Sometimes in a reflection or a picture. It comforts me. I know my little girl is near.”

“I see,” Nikki says, putting his hand to his chin, thinking Tommy isn’t the rainbow type.

Some people have told him to look for cardinals, others said pennies on the ground. Nikki’s been trying. Sometimes staring out the window at the bird feeder, waiting for that damn elusive red bird to show up. 

Finally one day, there one was. Nikki was outside, lounging near the pool. It flew up to the feeder, and then flew away. Nikki felt nothing. The bird didn’t look at him and wink. It didn’t throw out a wave with its wing. It certainly didn’t stay to eat but a speck. Tommy never nibbled at food. He inhaled it. Maybe if the bird shit on him, he might consider that there was something to it. But, no, this wasn’t a sign from his Tommy. “Where are you?” Nikki said out loud. With a sigh, he retreats inside.

\---------------

“Hey dad, Tommy’s kids and their families are coming over tomorrow night for a family dinner. Are you up for it?” Nikki’s son asks.

“It will be good to see them,” Nikki beams. The two families blended together eventually, after Nikki’s and Tommy announced their relational status. It wasn’t all cut and dry, some family taking a little longer than others to accept it, but soon it all slipped into place. The kids on both sides, developed sibling-type bonds with each other. 

Nikki loves these boys, much like his own. They remind him so much of their father. Sometimes their presence is therapeutic for Nikki.

\-----------------

The following night, Nikki has Tommy’s great granddaughter on his lap. She’s just about three. “How’s my girl tonight?” Nikki asks the little one.

"Grandpa T told me to tell you not to be a birdbrain,” she giggled.

“Oh he did, did he?” Nikki smiles.

“Yup. He’s so funny. He tells me jokes.”

“And you still remember them, do you?”

“Yes, he told me this one last night………” the little girl continues on, repeating a silly, simple joke.

All Nikki heard was ‘ _last night.’_ “What? Last night?”

“He tells me jokes on my bed,” she belly laughs.

Nikki knows that young kids have sometimes been known to have a 6th sense to see things outside of the black and white world that everyone knows. Does Tommy visit her? He called Nikki a birdbrain. Was it about the cardinal? Nikki thinks he’s been trying too hard. Looking in all of the wrong places. He needs to be more like a child, and be open to the unexpected metaphysical world around the black and white.

Nikki went to bed that night, resolving to find Tommy, somewhere. 

When he awoke that morning, the bed covers were tucked around him. That’s some that Tommy used to do. The drummer was such a messy sleeper, that by morning he’d often find Nikki rolled into a ball to keep himself warm, covers yanked off of him at some point during the night. Tommy would pull the covers back onto Nikki, and tuck them around him before getting up.

Nikki figured that someone from the family must have come in last night to check on him. After the message from the little girl, Nikki became lost in thought, somewhat despondent for the rest of the evening. A few people asking him if he was alright. Yeah, his family was just checking up on him last night, after he went to bed.

A week or so later, Nikki couldn’t sleep. He got up for a midnight snack, so to speak, leftover dinner from the bucket of fried chicken. Upon opening the container, all that was left was a drumstick. A drumstick. What happened to the rest of it? A drum-stick. No, couldn’t be. Tommy doesn’t even eat meat; why would he send a message through meat? The family must have had the same idea; hungry during the night.

A trip to the zoo, down the line. Nikki is with some of his grandchildren and great-grandchildren. They’re looking at the big cats. All that’s separating them from the predators is a wall of glass. Lazy lions. Tired tigers. But that jaguar, he was active and pacing. The kids pressed their faces against the glass. Nikki put his hands on the glass, when suddenly the jaguar pounced, standing on his hand legs; a giant paw just opposite Nikki’s hand. The kids shrieked. Nikki laughed; the jaguar giving him a high 5. He laughed and wondered. Tommy had a thing for that animal; evidenced by his large tattoo. Could this be a sign from Tommy? Why were all of the other cats so lazy. Just this one stir crazy. An ADHD cat. He wondered, as they continued on.

Then finally one day, Nikki sat in the back room, practicing chords. For no reason, but to keep himself occupied and active. Nikki set the old-fashion metronome to a slow tick, to help with timing. Just as his fingers hit the strings, the device went wacky, speeding up. 

“What the fuck?!” Nikki blares, resetting the speed.

Ready again, set to strum, and there goes that metronome, spazzing for a second time.

“Piece of shit!” Nikki says, annoyed, throttling the inanimate object, resetting the speed, slamming it back down.

When it happened again, Nikki couldn’t help but to yell, “Knock it off, motherfucker!!!”

This was the first time he knew without a doubt. He turned the device off, and looked around. Imagining that Tommy was somewhere nearby laughing his ass off. This was his Tommy. He smile for a moment. Then Nikki held his head in his hands, as tears welled up. “I miss you so much,” he cried softly. “Stay with me.”

\----------------------

And he did. As the months and years wore on, Nikki let himself be open to Tommy's antics. Often frustrating and annoying, but always comforting. 

He’d go for a dip in the backyard pool, only to find that his formally dry towel was now floating in the pool. “Good one, Tom. Are you looking for me to catch pneumonia?”

Nikki would stream rock music, when the channel would suddenly switch to Techno. “Go fuck yourself. You know that I don’t like this shit.”

He’d lay his glasses on the counter, to take a moment to rub his tired eyes, only to reach for them and not find them. Nikki would spin himself in a circle, looking on the floor for his glasses, only to find them again right where he left them moments later. “Not funny. You know I can’t see!”

When Nikki moved, he combined his t-shirts with Tommy’s in the same dresser drawer. Sometimes he’d pull out one of Tommy’s to wear, finally catching a whiff of that scent that he’d had been chasing; Tommy’s Marlboros, even though the shirt had been washed. And those bed covers… Nikki woke up every morning, tucked in.

And the incidences kept on….

“Thanks for burning my toast, dumb fuck! I’m hungry!”

“I’m going to kick your fucking ghostly ass if you don’t return my damn keys!”

“Get this fucking porn shit off my computer screen!”

"Yeow! Stop turning my shower cold! Trying to get me to the grave sooner with a slip and fall!

“How do you like this song? I think it’s shit.”

“Have I told you today that I love you?”

“Thanks for looking after me.”

“I miss you everyday.”

Nikki’s kids would often hear him swearing and talking to himself. The bassist would overhear them whispering to each other. “Do you think dad’s finally losing his mind?”

It would make Nikki chuckle. Yeah, it’s true, he was slowly losing his mind. With all of his past substance abuse, it was bound to happen. Too many brain cells killed off. The active ones, growing tired, picking up the slack. Forgetting stuff. Dazing out far too often. But, the talking and swearing, that was intentional. He’s been talking and yelling at Tommy everyday. His kids sometimes wondered if their dad was “communicating” with Tommy. No one was brave enough to ask him. Fear that he’d become upset. Fear that they’d find out that he really was losing his mind.

\-------------------------

\-------------------------

It’s cancer, he was told. It’s spread. We can try this or that, but…..

Just like Tommy, Nikki accepted his fate. What more did he have to do at 93? His replaced hips and knees were burning with pain. His fingers, curling in from arthritis. His hearing, starting to fail from years of blasting rock n’ roll. The rocker may have still had his hair, at least most of it. He still had his attitude, his memories. And he still had his Tommy, around him…. But, time was winding down.

Soon, the day arrived, Nikki’s organs starting to fail him. While he still had some oomph left, he requested Tommy's letter; to hold in his hand, over his heart.

The kids and grands came to say their goodbyes. The musical genius falling into a silent state….

_Nikki…._

Who was that? Who’s calling for me? Nikki wonders trapped within himself; not sure of up from down anymore. Something was happening…

_Nikki…. it’s me…._

Tommy? He wondered. Trying to make sense of what’s going on. He shudders, and feels a squeeze to his hand. “It’s OK, dad.”

_Nikki… come to me, my sweetheart…._

Nona? Is that my Nona? 

_Come on Nikki…. It’s OK…._

Tommy?

_He’s a stubborn bastard….._

Mick?

_Come on, motherfucker….._

Vince? 

What’s going on? Where am I?

_I’m here, love….. Take my hand….._

“Tommy….” - _the last thing Nikki said…._

“It’s OK to let go, dad. Go to him,” his daughter whispers.

With that the bassist takes his final breath of life.

_Take my hand, love…._

Nikki reaches out, feeling drawn so gently away, landing in a familiar embrace. One he’s never forgotten. Surrounded by warmth and light and love…..

_Welcome home, Nikki._

  
  



End file.
